COME AND MEET OUR GUEST: LARION WILLS

Steven made a sudden stop and turned to a small group as they passed. “Did you say Morning Meadow? Fulton DeBain’s Morning Meadow?”The tall slender woman, late twenties, dark auburn hair and sapphire blue eyes, looked him over appreciatively. When she smiled, however, it was only her mouth, while her eyes held a look of cool calculation. Her voice purred.

“You’ve heard of my home?”With a slight English accent, the man beside her drawled out slowly. “Not everyone has, love.” His manner was one of lazy insouciance with a well tailored look of a modern, slim, fair-haired David Niven right down to the narrow mustache. “Perhaps he has a special interest.”

“Only professional,” Steven said stiffly. He didn’t miss the innuendo or sweep of eyes the man gave him. “Sorry I interrupted you.”“Oh, don’t rush off, handsome.” She hooked her arm through Steven’s to hold him. “Just what profession would that be?”

“Architect, but it was rude of me to interrupt a private conversation.” He removed his arm. “As your friend so subtly pointed out.”“Oh, dear,” the man yawned behind a raised hand. “How boring to be called subtle.”“And how boring to be a boor,” she countered. “I’m Caroleigh Fitzhugh. And you are?”